


Three Ways

by Elektra Pendragon (elekdragon)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Jedi Quest Series - Jude Watson
Genre: Comfort Sex, First Time, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-20
Updated: 2003-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elekdragon/pseuds/Elektra%20Pendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three different ways Anakin can lose his virginity.  For the Virginity Challenge contest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Ways

**The Way It Didn't Happen**  
Violent

The lightsaber duel was brutal, relentless. Anakin blocked the blows until his bones shuddered against their joints, the muscles shaking and straining even as they grew tight with overexertion. Obi-Wan's swings were deadly accurate and filled with all his strength, honed over more years than Anakin had been alive. An hour ago, they had been evenly matched. Now, Anakin was at Obi-Wan's mercy, growing weaker by the minute.

"I can't!" Anakin shouted as Obi-Wan easily pushed aside his clumsy attack.

"You must!"

Anakin hadn't slept in days. He would drift into fitful, dreamless sleep during the few minutes he could steal; in astromechanics, in the line at the food dispensary, when he should be showering. Never more than a few minutes, however. His eyes felt gritty, and the walls of the training room rippled and twisted like a disturbed pond. Tricks, illusions, hallucinations brought on by exhaustion.

Obi-Wan continued attacking, and Anakin could barely move his weapon fast enough to keep the searing blade from clipping his arms or legs. Already he wore several hits like brown-red badges down his shoulder and sides, his bare skin striped from cauterized wounds that were deep enough to hurt, but not enough to disable him. Anakin hardly felt the pain from them; everything was agony wrapped around exhaustion, muffled by lack of sleep.

"Master, I can't!" Anakin cried out before finally falling gracelessly backwards, his legs suddenly numb and unresponsive. The hard floor was unpadded, and Anakin felt bruised from the impact. His head hit the hardest, cracking loudly and making Anakin go blind for several moments. Everything seemed to shut down after that, once he was motionless. He could blink, his eyesight coming back in a dull haze, but he couldn't move any other muscles in his body. His lightsaber deactivated and rolled out of his nerveless fingers. He tried to move, but he could barely breathe through the constriction in his chest.

Half-naked, weaponless, exhausted almost to the point of unconsciousness, Anakin was completely defenseless.

Obi-Wan's lightsaber slashed downward across Anakin's chest, searing a long diagonal line. The blade barely missed Anakin's left nipple, and reached almost down to the hem of his leggings. It was deep, drawn with the tip of the energy blade.

"Get up."

"I...can't...Master," Anakin wheezed. The deep burn made it even more difficult to suck in oxygen; the act of filling his lungs became a whole new kind of agony as it forced the wound open. Tears welled up in his eyes, making them sting, but as he blinked them away, his vision finally cleared enough to allow him to see Obi-Wan.

His Master stood above him, his face almost angry. His dark eyes were filled with revulsion that Obi-Wan couldn't hide--or didn't even try. The lightsaber blade shut down, the energy withdrawing into the housing with a dull whine. "If this had been for real, you would be dead now, young one."

Obi-Wan squatted down, tapping the lightsaber hilt against the burn he had just made. Every hit made Anakin shudder, as though shot with electricity. The only thing that kept him from passing out was the power in his Master's eyes, and the terrifying thought of adding that one last humiliating disappointment to the already long list of shortcomings.

"I know...Sorry." Anakin's voice was failing. The few words he could gasp out were frightfully weak and hardly articulated. He could only hope that Obi-Wan understood what he meant, and it would satisfy him.

Obi-Wan stopped hitting his chest, tossing aside the training saber with a sharp gesture. The weapon flew several meters, clunking lightly on the floor with a metallic dance of noise. "Your performance is disappointing. You have no focus, your strategy is laughable, and your stamina is not acceptable. You are incapable of following orders, and you have yet to show yourself capable of operating amidst distraction. Tell me: why should you be allowed to continue your training?"

'Because I have no where else to go.' The thought was treacherous, flowing into Anakin's mind before he could bury it under attention and contrition. He blinked his eyes, trying to call together the correct answer, the one that would convince his Master that he was worthy. "I...am..."

He was too late. Before Anakin could complete his sentence, Obi-Wan struck him across the face. The blow was swift and brutal, knocking Anakin's teeth together and pushing the side of his head into the solid floor. He spent several moments trying to turn his head before Obi-Wan grew impatient and grabbed him by the chin, maneuvering his face back towards himself.

"I will mold you into the perfect Jedi, Anakin. You will not fail me."

"Will not," Anakin promised, putting as much strength as he could behind it.

"I do this only because you are the Chosen One. You are too important to let waste away on a slave planet."

Anakin felt the ties of his leggings loosen. He wanted to lift his hips to help his Master, but he still couldn't move his own body. Obi-Wan used one hand to drag them roughly down his hips, the other stroking Anakin's neck almost tenderly.

"I promised Qui-Gon that I would train you. The Council will look for any weakness, any mistake that might give them the excuse to fail you."

When the hands withdrew from his body, Anakin waited for the familiar weight to settle onto his chest. Perhaps Obi-Wan would touch his cock to the burn, letting his semen cool the wound. Maybe this time he would want Anakin's mouth. Anakin was still too weak to move, so he poured his desire into the Force that Obi-Wan would not instruct him to respond to his attentions. He didn't want to fail his Master again by not being able to follow his commands.

Obi-Wan's disappointed face moved out of Anakin's vision. Before he could make his unfocused eyes follow, Anakin was rolled over onto his side. The distant white wall was merely a blur, broken by the nearby grey blob of his weapon just beyond his reach. His left arm flopped bonelessly as Obi-Wan tossed it out of his way. There was a noise behind him, lewd and impersonal, as his Master cleared his throat deeply. The noise went on longer than Anakin thought it should.

The touch that wiggled into the cleft of his ass was warm and wet, two fingers smearing a slimy trail over his skin wherever it touched. One touched his anus, first skirting it, then moving deftly inside once it was sure it had reached its target. Anakin would have shrunk in upon himself if he could have moved; he felt like everything inside was flinching away from the invasion, falling into a giant gravity sink in the middle of his belly. Obi-Wan had never touched him there, always preferring to see his face, making Anakin watch as he finished their lessons.

"If the Council had seen your abysmal display, Anakin, they would have surely expelled you from the Order. I cannot allow that. You must learn your place."

The fingers disappeared. Obi-Wan cleared his throat again, and then the fingers returned, slicker and wiser. They both found the entrance this time, both squeezing together to press inside. It wasn't pain, not yet. The two fingers pushed inside, pressing against the muscles in different directions, moving, shifting, twisting until their passage was slick and easy.

"You will be perfect. You will be obedient, and powerful. You will not fail me again."

Anakin's face made a squeaking noise as he was dragged across the smooth floor, his cheek stinging from the abrasion. He wobbled awkwardly, not in control of his body, as Obi-Wan placed him. His back twisted until his chest was almost flat against the floor while a strong hand on his hip held his lower body on his side. The wound on his chest felt ripped open, weeping clear tears of fluid as burnt skin was ripped away. The fingers inside spread widely for a moment, causing a strange burning pain inside, before they slipped out.

"You ARE the Chosen One, Anakin."

Anakin stopped breathing when Obi-Wan entered him with short, agonizing jerks of his hips, his Master's hands holding him steady as he taught Anakin's body how to take it.

* * *

 **The Way It Might Have Happened**  
Comfort

It had been a hard day for Anakin. Stuck on planet until Obi-Wan cleared the healers' exams, Anakin was being tossed from one Master to another. Ever since Obi-Wan contracted a rare form of Corellian flu, Anakin had been isolated from any contact with his Master. To ensure he didn't spend his time idle, the Council had commanded a series of individualized lessons with Masters who were on planet. Sometimes he practiced with a Master-Padawan team, and other times he received a Master's full attention.

Usually Anakin enjoyed these special lessons. He learned many new things, and was able to experience many different instructional methods. Unfortunately, on this day, Anakin had been assigned to Master Siri. She was a good Master, filled with tricks and intrigue that she was eager to practice on a new audience. Her Padawan, however, was intolerable. Ferus had been Anakin's rival when they were young Padawans, but now that they were both entering the end phase of their apprenticeships, they were more competitive than ever. When he was near, Ferus seemed to look right through Anakin, finding all his faults and showing them to him with Sithly glee. It made Anakin feel uncomfortable and off-balanced, as though every wrong thought and false action was instantly visible to the other Padawan. Having that gaze locked on him for most of the day had drained Anakin of his energy. He had made more mistakes today than he had made in a whole week.

Anakin still had four more days of Siri's instruction to face. Four more days of Ferus' unwavering judgment.

Anakin was at the Med Center almost before he had realized he had come that way. The need to see his Master was strong; he needed someone to make him feel like a Jedi again. He may not be able to talk to Obi-Wan about his feelings, but being in his presence if only for a moment would make Anakin feel like everything was back to normal for a little while.

Before he could enter the sterile-field barrier, a med droid rolled up in front of him. "I'm sorry, but no one is allowed past this point. We are in strict quarantine."

Anakin stretched onto his toes, looking over its head. "I just need to talk to my Master for a moment."

"I'm sorry, but we are in strict quarantine."

"Just let me see him for a second--"

"You are not allowed past this point."

It was pointless to argue with the droid. If he wanted, he could have reprogrammed it, or possibly found the remote to disable it long enough for him to get past, but he was tired and couldn't find the energy. Anakin stretched one last time, bouncing up on his toes, but he could only make out the vague shadow of someone on a bed. It could have been Master Gallia for all Anakin could tell.

Waving a disgusted hand at the droid, Anakin turned around and scuffled back down the hall. He was exhausted, but he didn't want to go back to his quarters. The door to Obi-Wan's quarters were keyed to accept his voiceprint, but Anakin didn't feel like going there either. He didn't want to be around other people, but he didn't want to be alone either. Anakin wandered the vaulted halls, allowing his feet to direct him through the quiet corridors of the Temple.

The Padawan dormitory was quiet, as it always was this time of the evening. Most Padawans were already sleeping, their quiet dreams giving the darkened hallways a surreal feeling. Anakin past his door without activating it; instead, he walked to the very end of the hall, to where Tru Veld had his room.

Tru was Anakin's best friend--his only friend, outside of the droids Anakin made from spare parts he collected late at night. The young man was all energy and good spirits. He could, with a smile, make Anakin almost believe the galaxy held something wonderful for the both of them. The very presence of his friend was soothing.

Anakin's hand barely brushed the keypad before the door swished open. Tru smiled teasingly, leaning against the side of the door with a kind of weary expectance as though Anakin were late for something. The sight of his friend was a like a soothing balm on his nerves. With a little shiver, Anakin released a small portion of his anxiety. All the same, he couldn't bring himself to return the brilliant smile.

Tru straightened himself, moving back into his room. With one long arm, he gestured gracefully inside, inviting Anakin in with a more serious face. "What happened?"

Anakin stepped inside, waving absently at the door. The key activated, and the door slid silently shut. "I--" A long and detailed list of all of Ferus' evil actions had been in the forefront of Anakin's mind, but the sight of Tru's silver eyes squinting with concern pushed it all aside. Ferus was a petty man, and not worth Anakin's time. Instead of complaining, Anakin simply stepped close to his friend and rested his hands on his narrow hips.

Anakin leaned forward, resting his forehead on Tru's shoulder. The lanky Padawan was as tall as Anakin, his long limbs a match for the unusually tall human. In this, as in many things, Anakin felt at home with his friend. With Tru, he wasn't strange, or alone, or a failure, or The Chosen One. He was just Anakin.

Tru wrapped his arms around Anakin's shoulders, gently encouraging him closer. Anakin let the other man support his weight, leaning heavily against him. His hands slipped behind Tru's waist to settle in the small of his back, pulling their hips together.

There was no need for words at that moment. Anakin needed comfort; Tru was happy to give it. That was all that was necessary between them, and it was easily communicated without words.

Tru practically wrapped himself around Anakin as he held him. With any other person it would have been a hyperbole to say that, but Tru's race was particularly flexible. Silvery arms stretched across his back and held his shoulders, making Anakin feel surrounded by his friend. How many times had they done this? How often had he needed this kind of comfort? Too many times, it sometimes felt. And yet, not often enough.

'I shouldn't need this,' Anakin thought to himself. 'A Jedi doesn't need emotion, he has peace.'

"But sometimes even a Jedi needs some help finding peace, yes?"

Anakin was used to his friend starting conversations half-way through, but this time it was like he was reading his mind. "Yes," Anakin absently agreed, moving his face into Tru's neck, pressing into the soft crook there. The skin was incredibly soft, not like his own. Smooth and silvery, like the soft rays of the moon. Anakin rubbed his nose against it, enjoying the rub of their skin together. Tru always felt so good.

Anakin's lips tingled when they brushed Tru's skin--even softer, now. He could barely sense the slow pulse beneath the surface, rushing against his mouth. When Anakin licked his lips, he tasted Tru's flesh as well--sweet against his tongue, like a sugared treat. He licked again, leaving a long line up Tru's neck before rubbing his lips down the slick surface. Soft, and sweet.

Tru quietly purred, then said a faint, "Anakin."

The sound of his name brought Anakin out of the daze he had been in. He tried to pull back, suddenly embarrassed over his actions, but Tru's arms were strong around him. Anakin lifted his head to look at his friend in the eyes. He had wanted to apologize, to blame it on his exhaustion, but before he could say anything, Tru's mouth pressed against his own. It was clumsy, and his teeth bruised the inside of his lip, but it also felt sweet. Like Tru's skin had felt. Tasted. Whatever. It was good, and when Tru pulled back, Anakin moved in himself.

It was softer this time, more like a kiss should be. Two lips meeting two lips, a little sucking, and then he pulled away. It was so new, something he had never done with another Padawan.

"I don't--"

They started and stopped at the same time, both flushing at the shared thought.

"I haven't--"

This time, laughter, as they found themselves again sharing the same thought. It was a comfortable laughter, lifting the little bit of tension that had crept into the room.

Instead of speaking, this time Tru tilted his head back towards his sleeping area, his eyes sparkling like sunshine on silver waves. They always danced when he was excited, reminding Anakin of the pictures he had seen of Tru's homeworld. Anakin nodded in reply, not trusting himself to speak properly. It was a whole new world for him--for both of them. They would figure it out together.

They unwrapped themselves slowly, giving each other plenty of time for more kisses, each touch of their lips bolder and wiser than the time before. Long fingers wrapped around Anakin's hand as Tru tugged him towards the bed, smiling through one last kiss. The room was small, and in a few long strides there were beside the bed. Reluctantly, Tru's fingers fell from Anakin's hand, and they parted.

Nervousness again settled between them. Anakin was the one to break it first, lifting his foot to undo the clasps of his boots. He took the heel in hand and pulled the boot off his foot, settling it neatly by the bed. He wadded up his sock and tossed it down the leg of the boot before starting on his other foot. Tru quickly followed suit, toeing off the thick socks he wore around his room.

They both stripped down to the waist, leaving their clothes folded beside each other on the chair. When it came to getting any more naked, they were both embarrassed again. It was silly; they had seen each other naked on many occasion, but it was never like this. Anakin could feel himself hard and eager inside his leggings, and he could see that Tru was also excited. They stared at each other for a long moment, then Tru stepped across the small space between them to take Anakin in his arms again.

They kissed, this time bolder than ever. Tru opened his mouth and licked across Anakin's lips, flickering against the line of his mouth. When he pressed against the corner, Anakin finally opened his own mouth, letting Tru's tongue slip inside. It was a strange thing to have another man's tongue in his mouth, but it was as sweet and soft and wonderful as the rest of Tru, so Anakin liked it. He licked it back, enjoying the friction of their tongues against each other.

Tru's fingers were sneaking down Anakin's spine while he was distracted. When one hand slipped under the band of his leggings, Anakin gave a long shiver. Tru stopped everything, his lips simply resting against Anakin's while he waited for his friend to make up his mind. Anakin paused for a heartbeat, two, three, then he moved his hips side to side, enjoying the solid shift of long fingers and warm, rough palm against his ass. He tilted his chin again, licking along the inside of Tru's upper lip.

Tru's other hand crept inside, this time closer to the front, by Anakin's hip. It was as startling as the first, but this time Anakin didn't need time to decide if he liked it. He continued kissing Tru, his fingers tangling in his hair to rub at his scalp. With long, slow-moving caresses, the hand moved to the side, moving closer and closer to Anakin's erection. It was so incredible to feel another's hands on his body, hands that weren't teaching or healing. Tru's hands felt so good--soft and rough at the same time. Hands he had seen a hundred times a day, but couldn't remember ever feeling like this before.

When Tru finally touched his erection, Anakin released a long, low groan. It startled him, the noise, because the room had been so silent before. Tru made a cooing noise back, then he wrapped his long fingers around Anakin's penis, squeezing a little too hard. But that was good too, and Anakin moaned again, his mind pulling away from everything but that incredible touch. At some point, he stopped kissing, and just pressed his cheek to Tru's, groaning with every rough stroke.

It didn't take long before he was shuddering his release into Tru's hand, his hitching breaths echoed back as Tru rubbed against his thigh.

* * *

 **The Way It Should Have Happened**  
Shelter

"You take too many risks, Padawan." Obi-Wan's voice was admonishing, but worried as well. Anakin could hear a dozen emotions in the tone, though he knew Obi-Wan's face would show only one. Disappointment. He kept his gaze to the ground, not wanting to see it.

"I know, Master," Anakin answered sullenly. He had heard it all before.

"I don't think you do."

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment, long enough for Anakin to lift his eyes to meet his Master's face. He saw such sadness there. He had expected to see disappointment, of course, and maybe a little anger. The sadness, though--for the briefest moments, Obi-Wan looked just as he did beside Qui-Gon's pyre.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan reached out his right hand, running the tips of his fingers down Anakin's cheek. The touch was barely there, but it was electric, sending tingles down Anakin's spine to his toes. He had hardly realized he had leaned forward until Obi-Wan was cupping his cheek, just holding his face tenderly in his palm.

Obi-Wan traced the outside of Anakin's ear with one finger, brushing over the skin lightly. The touch was almost hypnotic after a while, but still exciting. "I could not stand to see you in pain, Anakin. I care too much for you."

Anakin reached up his own hand, cupping it around Obi-Wan's. He didn't pull his Master's hand from his face, but pressed it closer to his cheek, enjoying the tenderness of the touch. Obi-Wan's eyes shifted away from Anakin's to look at their hands touching. The sadness in his eyes became something of pain.

"Obi-Wan?"

"You take too many unnecessary risks, but you are afraid of the important ones. You never jump when you should. And you run when you should not."

"I don't understand."

Obi-Wan smiled, looking young again beneath his beard. "If I kissed you right now, would you let me, or would you fight me in that too?"

Anakin was almost convinced, then, that his Master had truly gone around the bantha and lost his mind. "If you kissed me, I would kiss you back," he answered truthfully, eyes moving to gaze at those lips.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, and Anakin sucked in a nervous breath before his mouth was covered with Obi-Wan's. The beard felt weird against his skin, scratchy and soft at the same time, but Anakin stayed true to his word and kissed back, licking at the tender skin between scraping hair. Obi-Wan tapered off the kiss until he was pulling away, breaking contact. When he tried to take back his hand, Anakin held it to his cheek.

This time it was Anakin who started the kiss, drawing Obi-Wan into passion with slow movements of lips and tongue. He scraped his teeth down Obi-Wan's bottom lip before he slid to the side, rubbing his smooth cheek against Obi-Wan's beard. It wasn't so bad when it wasn't rubbing against his lips. Anakin kept Obi-Wan's hand trapped against his other cheek, feeling like he was being pressed and held against Obi-Wan's face. It was a good feeling. Anakin wrapped his arm around his Master's waist and leaned into him, hugging him close.

Anakin wasn't sure if this was what Obi-Wan had meant by risks and jumping, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to be close to his Master. For years he had been feeling...wrong. Off center. Spinning out of control. Like he was reaching for something in the darkness without knowing what it was. It had started several years after Naboo, after leaving his mother, and just got worse. However, standing in the middle of their shared quarters, with his body wrapped around Obi-Wan, Anakin knew what he had been missing. Touch. Connection. Love. Someone who wasn't afraid of showing love.

Maybe Obi-Wan hadn't been talking about Anakin at all, but about himself.

When Obi-Wan brought his other arm up around Anakin, fingers splayed over his back, Anakin shuddered and held Obi-Wan closer. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling the emotion as well as saying it. "Thank you..." He released Obi-Wan's hand, letting his own slip into Obi-Wan's hair to hold his face close to his own. Things finally felt right, more right than they had in a long time.

It also felt right to kiss his Master. Anakin turned his face into Obi-Wan's cheek, nuzzling his beard for a moment with his nose before moving back to his lips. They were so smooth in contrast to the beard, so wonderfully sensitive. "Please," he spoke into Obi-Wan's mouth, hardly knowing if he would be understood.

"Of course, my Padawan. Always."

Obi-Wan shifted them, turning them towards his private room. It should have been awkward, walking Obi-Wan backwards, but with perfectly in sync shuffling steps they made it to the room without incident, without the need to break apart for more than the length of a shared breath. Unerringly Obi-Wan directed Anakin to the bed, turning them around at the last moment to push Anakin back onto it. As though he meant to part from Anakin, his Master lifted his head, breaking the kiss, but Anakin wouldn't allow it. He latched on with teeth and lips to Obi-Wan's neck, his hands fisting his hair to drag him down with him. The older man was heavy on his body, but that, too, felt wonderful. When Obi-Wan tried to rise, he moved sensuously against Anakin's erection, making it a long, pleasurable parting.

"Clothing," Obi-Wan reminded his Padawan chidingly. He softened it with a smile, wide and full of teeth. It was an infectious smile, one Anakin rarely saw on his face these days. He couldn't help but to answer it with his own, giddy laughter threatening to bubble up behind his lips.

With artful wiggles and economy of movement, Obi-Wan removed his clothes and set them in a nice pile on the floor. Anakin was less coordinated, rolling around the bed as he shed out of his tunics and leggings. He could have stood and removed them easier, but Obi-Wan had put him on the bed, and he for once he was happy to be obedient.

Anakin hardly had a moment to see his Master fully nude before he was covered again by his body. The shock of warm skin on warm skin was quick and pleasurable, a burn that transferred waves of excitement through his body. He had seen Obi-Wan naked before, of course, so he had some idea of what to expect, but to feel his Master hard and excited against his thigh, so close to his own erection, was a surprise. Not unpleasant, but astonishing in its reality. They were naked, and Obi-Wan wanted him.

*Wanted* him.

"Oh!" Anakin called out, a small astonished sound he breathed even as Obi-Wan's lips circled his throat. His Master's hands were everywhere, feeling and caressing and rubbing against every part of Anakin's body he could reach, making sure every part of him was touched. It was like his Master was making up for years of ignoring him, of never touching him in training or in congratulations. Anakin drank in the attention, memorizing every sensation as though this were to be the last time. Memories flashed in his head, of times when Obi-Wan should have touched him in the past but had been strangely distant. Each moment was recreated, replaced with the sensation of Obi-Wan's hands on his shoulder, his cheek, his hand, his leg--the way things should have been all along.

Anakin lifted his head for a few moments at a time, mesmerized by the sight of those dark hands against his skin before dropping his head back down to the mattress, staring at the ceiling as he tried to process all that has happened, and was yet to come.

When Obi-Wan's hand wrapped around his penis, it was slick and warm and tight, squeezing and flexing around his erection until Anakin was sure he would never masturbate as well as that touch even if he practiced a hundred times a day. It was perfect, and so experienced. Fleetingly Anakin wondered who had taught his Master, but the answer was within the question.

When Obi-Wan settled on his stomach, his knees around Anakin's hips, it was like he had done this a thousand times before. Though Anakin had never fantasized about this moment, a part of him must have always known. He watched his Master's face as he reached down and took his own erection, his other hand on Obi-Wan's hip. He guided himself as he urged Obi-Wan to sit. His erection was very slick, and it slipped around over the smooth skin of Obi-Wan's cleft. Eventually he found the right spot, that burst of heat and softness, and he pressed carefully against it.

The weight of Obi-Wan's body did most of the work. His Master's face grimaced, eyes crinkling in concentration as his gaze was far away, concentrating on something he couldn't see. Anakin could feel his body relax around his penis, muscles remembering the feel of penetration. From the tip down, Anakin could again feel tight, hot and slick around his erection as Obi-Wan seated himself.

They were both covered in sweat by the time Obi-Wan was flush with Anakin's body. Shifting his weight, Anakin carefully bent his knees, lifting them up until he could set his feet flat on the bed, but he waited, unsure of what he was supposed to do--what Obi-Wan wanted.

Leaning back, Obi-Wan rested an arm on Anakin's knee. Using it for leverage, he slowly lifted himself up, then fell back down.

The breath left Anakin's body as though he'd been punched in the stomach. Obi-Wan did it again, and Anakin was almost sure he wouldn't need to breathe again, as long as his Master kept doing that.

After a few slow bounces, Anakin learned that he could move his hips to meet Obi-Wan, pounding them together in a way that made them both flush bright red. Sometimes their rhythm got off, but they quickly got back in pace, finding each other again after a few clumsy moments. Obi-Wan shifted forward, putting his hands on either side of Anakin's head to look down at him. The changed angle made Anakin's thrusts shallower, but Obi-Wan's face showed how good it made him feel. Anakin kept it up, watching carefully to see exactly what made him twitch that special way or make him undulate inside. Obi-Wan's sweat fell onto his face, and Anakin licked at it, tasting something so familiar and yet so new to him.

Anakin watched Obi-Wan's face until he couldn't take it anymore. He closed his eyes and came with a groan and a shudder, arms locking tightly around Obi-Wan's back. He felt the dripping of liquid on his stomach, and Obi-Wan collapsed on his chest. For long moments, they breathed together, sucking air with their lips just inches apart.

"If you...EVER...do something as stupid...as stealing a speeder...to race in the corridors...I will...PERSONALLY...see you turned over to the...authorities...until Bail Organa...is a...Chancellor."

Anakin closed the space between them, licking Obi-Wan's lips slowly until the sweat-taste was gone. "Yes, Master."

**Author's Note:**

> First place in the Obi/Ani slash list Viginity challenge.


End file.
